It's a Bird! It's a Plane! It's a Love Song!
by Kitara Lira
Summary: Screw the bird and the plane, they lack the cheesy awesomeness of a love song... And a moustache?


_**::It's a Bird! It's a Plane! It's a Love Song!**_::

_K.L._

**A/N: **All errors belong to me - because I be epic like that. It's late. I'm tired. Life is killing my ff writing time! But here I wrote this for you guys because I lub you and you (we pretend) lub me! Also I did not write this amazing song you see below. That was all Sam Hart. And if it was possible I would love him. But it's not. So I stole his song. Song name is at the end so I don't spoil the surprised.

Lub lub! And I hope everyone has an awesome day/night/evening/zombie/morning/time!

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><p>Animate chatter fluttered about the choir room. It was Friday and all the Gleeks were eager to discuss weekend plans.<p>

Guns poised Puck had slapped a kiss to St. Pierre and Jones (serious names for serious guns) flexing once or maybe twice, but really five times, before turning his attention to his fellow Gleeks, "These guys are going to get some mighty fine things this weekend. Not only from the Gun Show but also from the ladies," Brows darting up and down a sly leer captured his lips, "If you know what I mean."

Alas not all were impressed by the gun show demonstration and as such Puck's comments were met with a mixed chorus of cat calls and gags.

However before the mohawked teenager could defend the wounded pride of St. Pierre and Jone the ever cheerful voice of one Brittany Pierce rang out.

"Just like Sans gun show!"

In the blink of an eye one poor plastic chair was clattering across the floor, one Latina having flung herself from it in a hopes to silence what she knew was to come next.

A moment too late.

"Except after the gun show we usually have the vagi-" The rest of the words were muffled into the palm of an oddly beet red Santana, the colour of her skin no doubt matching that of her once upon a time Cheerio uniform.

The choir room had never been more silent.

Of course silence, as it often is, lasted no more than a few seconds (long and excruciatingly painful seconds if you were to ask one Santana Lopez).

The response from the occupants was rather mixed.

Another chair joined the brunette's on the floor as Finn made a hasty exit. Lauren wore any oddly comfortable smirk while Puck sat to her left, a dribble of drool escaping its confines (Despite numerous rumours the two were not in any romantic entanglement of the sort; after a first date Puck had been dismissed with an empty wallet to an empty bed which to Puck was a big no no). Tina and Mike wore matching bright red ears and Mercedes hollered a "Oh Hell, TMI!" to the young blonde.

Some days it was wished – by many – that Brittany S. Pierre possessed a filter. Or rather just a filter that pertained to the "physical" actions occurring in her everyday life. Although some – as Finn can attest – did not mind. Though he did prefer forewarning as he liked to be prepared should any accidents arise.

More moments passed, the words having done the worst damage they would do, before the door slammed against the far wall.

Seriously.

Slammed.

There was a crater in the painted drywall to prove just how much force the poor thing had taken. Honestly, the Gleeks may seem a peaceful people but the amount of injured furniture, walls and eardrums would suggest otherwise.

"Quinn!"

Embarrassment forgotten the ex-Cheerio straightened sliding her hands to her hips and offering her best 'bitch please' face.

"Bitch please," She started adding the waggling of her index finger, "Your bitch is not here so don't come all up in my grill whining about your little blonde wifey." Internal Santana did a jig with the widest of smirks congratulating herself on the impromptu bitch speech.

In the backdrop Mike mumbled softly, "I'll never understand her fascination with the 'b' word." To which Tina shot him a sympathetic half-smile.

Clearing his throat Sam offered the door/wall abusing Rachel (from behind his wall of blonde-mass-ness-possibly-hair-creature) a smile, "Rachel what I think Satan," Feeling the heated glare of hell upon him the boy made a quick correction, "Santana I said Santana. Anyways I think what she meant to say is Quinn isn't here."

Hands on hips abuser of doors and walls shot the blonde boy an icy glare. Honestly, between the glare of Hel and the glare of Skadi (1) it was any wonder he hadn't already undergone implosion.

In to rescue the poor boy from a death by glares swooped Lauren (though really she could careless. Glee what?), "What did Blondie do this time?" It was all about the dirt really.

With a huff the pint-sized diva crossed her arms, "She has been avoiding me for," Dark eyes drifted to the school clock to confirm, "Twenty-two hours, thirty-seven minutes and fifteen seconds. Approximately of course."

"Of course," Came the response while most of the Gleeks (or really just Santana, Kurt and Mercedes) rolled their eyes.

"Alright!" Exclaimed an excited Spanish teacher as he (practically) pranced into the choir room, "Today's lesson is abo-"

Spinning on her heels, Rachel faced the curly haired man, "Glee cannot start yet," Stated the brunette, her dark eyes narrowing at her once upon a time and extremely brief infatuation, "I am upset." As an after thought she added, "And Quinn is not here."

As the man made to speak Rachel silenced him, "Furthermore why do you always insist on attending our rehearsals, on average, 12.3 minutes **after **the designated start time? Tardiness is a poor trait to possess. Do you realise the effect that your tardiness has on our performance? Have you ever considered therapy? I know an admirable therapist whom I would gladly recommend yo-" The creaking of the door caught her attention and more than likely saved many lives, "Quinn!" The frown she bore couldn't help but morph into a smile. Of course once she noticed Rachel made sure to wear the frowniest of frowns.

"Before you get upset," Rushed the blonde stumbling forward to steer the brunette to her normal seat, "I just want you to know I love you and I **wrote** a song for you which I'm going to perform but you have to promise me you will not laugh nor will you judge me base-"

A slender finger pressed to pale lips was all it took to silence the blonde, "Oh Quinn you know I take these things very seriously. Even if you are a closeted nerd – which I have no doubt you have managed to work into this song you mention," Drawing the blonde down within reach of her lips, Rachel placed a kiss to Quinn's scarlet cheek, "I will love you no less. Now please." With this Rachel released her and motioned to the floor before them.

"Doesn't anyone listen to me?" Whimpered Mr. Schuester as he rocked to and fro in the far corner of the room, tears falling by the buckets.

The words fell on deaf ears.

Noticing the attention of the entire club (minus Finn of course as he had experience some "difficulties" earlier and was currently attempting to remedy his situation) the blonde fell shy, scuffing the sole of her Chuck Taylors across the linoleum, "Well, I um…" Frantically Quinn scampered behind the drum set retrieving a small bag and guitar case.

From the back corner Puck whistled, "Hot baby mama! You got this by the balls!"

Not even Rachel's cold stare could tame his excitement.

"Right right," Mumbled the blonde, her mantra of self-encouragement, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her hair. There was a long silent pause before "Oh right!" And Quinn was furiously digging through the small bag producing a small star laden tiara (custom made of course).

Cautiously Quinn crept forward, motioning toward Rachel's dark locks, "Can I?" The only response she received was the rise of one brow followed by a curt nod.

The tiara was placed delicately on Rachel's head and once Quinn was pleased that it was not crooked and would not fall off she returned to the contents of her bag. Back toward her friends and girlfriend, a few features were added and a hat dawned. Guitar in hand Quinn turned to face the crowd.

On her head sat a red Kangol Tropic Enfield cap (2) and what appeared to be a paper moustache.

Gales of laughter fell from Santana as the Latina keeled over in her chair, slapping her knee as she gasped for air.

"Can it S!" Yelped the heavily blushing blonde, "Don't think I would tell everyone about what you did last month while you feigned ill!" At this the laughter came to an immediate halt and the two exchanged a serious nod.

Moment passed, the nervousness that had been fluttering through Quinn's stomach returned, "Umm, right okay so Rachel," The blonde fiddled with the strings of the guitar striking a few chords here and there, "I know I've been avoiding you and I'm sorry. But once upon a time you told someone you wouldn't date any boy who wasn't a lead." A soft chuckle escaped her lips, "First I think you may have noticed, I'm not a boy, I mean short hair yes, boy no. Second…" Hazel eyes met chocolate, "I don't want you to think of me as just your girlfriend who sways in the background." Flutters gone all that remained was eyes shimmering with determination, "And so for you I have composed and will perform this song." Much like Elvis, Quinn stood with a wide stance thrusting the index finger of her right hand toward the seated brunette. "This is for you Rachel."

The last part was really a tad unnecessary but Quinn tended to be a tad cliché when her nerves got the better of her.

Fingers flitted across the fret board as the blonde strummed the opening chords.

"_You be my princess and I'll be your toad, I'll follow behind you on rainbow road protecting you from red shells wherever we go,_" As she sung Quinn only had eyes for her brunette. More than a declaration of her vocal and writing abilities this song was a mirror to the emotions she felt inside, "_I promise._"

"_No one will touch us if we pick up a star and if you spin out you can ride in my car,_" Standing before Rachel Quinn took a knee, "_When we slide together we generate sparks in our wheels and our hearts._"

Returning to full height the blonde took to the center of the room, gaze never once leaving Rachel's, "_The finish line, is just around the bend I'll pause this game so our love will never end, let's go again._"

This was one of the few ways in which Quinn could – relatively – comfortably express all the feelings that her throat refused to release.

"_The blue shell is coming so I'll go ahead, if you hang behind it will hit me instead,_" The ramrod straight posture Rachel was maintaining in her plastic chair told two things. One Rachel was obsessed with posture and two she was biting back tears. "_But never look back cause I'm down but not dead, I'll catch up to you._"

For a brief moment Quinn took in her fellow Gleeks.

Puck danced back and forth in his seat, mouthing along to the words as best as he could (it was a smidgen hard when all he had was his knowledge of Quinn, Mario Kart and the rhythm of the song to work with). Lauren sat with a face of indifference and a part of Quinn couldn't help but wonder had she sung of food would the girl have feigned interest? Santana was sobbing, while Brittany cooed softly in her ear. And the rest swayed back and forth with the beat, one or sometimes two hands raised skyward.

Lighters. They would have added perfectly to the current mood. However, as Quinn felt her fingers pass with ease about the strings, the idea had come a little too late. Next time though.

"_Don't worry about Bowser or DK, ,_" Eyes returning to one particular individual Quinn couldn't help but internally dance, "_Just eat this glowing mushroom and they'll all fade away._" There sat Rachel with small tears brewing in the corners of her eyes.

Quinn was by no means sadistic – those days were far behind her. These tears were of love and all those good sappy things that Quinn could only pray would be forever in her future.

"_The finish line, is just around the bend. I'll pause this game so our love will never end let's go again. To the mushroom cup. And the flower cup. And the star cup. And the reverse cup. Walalalalala. Walalalalalawaluigiiiiii!_"

The room fell again into silence as the last chord was plucked.

Occasional soft sniffles could be heard from a few of the room's occupants and before Quinn could confirm that indeed most of those sniffles were from their teacher, the blonde felt the body of her guitar sliding out of her grasp.

Before she could panic, the guitar was handed to a smirking relative to cousin it – or Sam – and the smooth lips of Rachel were upon her easing any and all tension from her body.

Honesty no matter what Rachel did she always managed to turn Quinn into this giant boneless ball of jelly. Kind of like a buzzblob.

When air was required the pair separated however not by far. Foreheads resting together, Rachel spoke, "Quinn that was… corny. Sappy. But most of all the most beautiful love song anyone has ever sung to me."

Quinn couldn't fight the feelings of pride, accomplishment and of course love bubbling within her.

"Yeah?" She inquired softly, not for ego sake but rather for love sake. Cheesy much?

The brunette gently rested her head in the crook of Quinn's neck, tightening her hold about the blonde's waist, "Yeah," She mumbled into ticklish pale skin.

A shiver ran the length of Quinn's spine and she did her best not to squirm. This was a romantic moment after all and the last thing Quinn wanted to do was ruin it by falling to a jelly lump on the floor while giggling like a crazy.

But of course as all romantic moments go they don't truly ever last.

"On the second bridge and in the last stanza however you slipped and sung sharp. But don't worry, we'll correct it."

Oh love.

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><p><em><strong>Song: Mario Kart Love Song by Sam Hart<strong>_

**(1)** – Hel and Skadi are goddesses of Norse mythology, death and winter respectively. Hel is daughter of Loki who is in some cases referred to as god of fire blah blah blah. Hel equal Loki offspring so in my mind association with fire (kinda but you know not). And so like fire and ice yadda yadda. I see Sam as more of a Norse God(desses) kinda guy, which is why I pick 'em.

**(2)** - You know, Mario's hat!


End file.
